


if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

by frnkenweenie



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky comforts him (sort of), M/M, Steve needs comforting (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2003550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frnkenweenie/pseuds/frnkenweenie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers is a skinny person. He has a burly body but he is a skinny person. Encased within the super soldier, an American icon, is the ninety pound asthmatic that has to pause for breath after clambering up a flight of stairs that no one – no guy, gal, nor army- would spare a second glance at, or even a first glance to begin with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?

                Steve Rogers is a skinny person. He _has_ a burly body but he _is_ a skinny person. Encased within the super soldier, an American icon, is the ninety pound asthmatic that has to pause for breath after clambering up a flight of stairs that no one – no guy, gal, nor army- would spare a second glance at, or even a first glance to begin with.

                Steve rarely looks in the mirror because, even seven decades later, he still occasionally finds himself in denial that this is real, still finds himself thinking that any minute he will wake up as the embodiment of a physical failure and will go and enlist for the army again, only to return home to Bucky with a 4F and his head hung in disappointment and disgust. When he does catch his reflection in a mirror, he somewhat resents the body that he sees. It still takes his breath away when he sees a tall and broad figure with hard muscles, sturdy skin. A body that can throw a punch powerful enough to knock a mundane guy out cold and can take a punch or two from an _actual alien from outer space_ and holy hell when did Steve’s life get so _weird_? He was just a Brooklyn boy wanting to fight the big fight.

                He was thankful for Erskine, finds it impossible not to be considering that the doctor gave him everything he wanted; the opportunity to be a soldier, to fight for what’s right and to defend the American way. But the resentment came from what else the super soldier package came with. The fame. The debasing of other soldiers, ones who had fought longer than him, ones who had lied about their age just to fight, those who were just as of a soldier as he was. What angered Steve the most was when people acted like his sacrifice was the only sacrifice because the other soldiers were as brave as he was and families had lost brothers, sons, husbands, uncles. It angers him because he was just a soldier like the rest, but because he was given a gift he is treated like a god.

“I just can’t believe its real sometimes,” Steve explains to Bucky one night as the other man leaves a trail of ghostly kisses down his chest. “I still think that one day I’m gonna just -” he broke off with a frustrated sigh, unsure of how to articulate his thoughts.

“You feel like you’re gonna wake up the same as you were seventy-odd years ago, with America only just being dragged into the war and what not.” Bucky finishes for him, pausing on his path down Steve’s stomach to sit up and look at him with cool powder blue eyes. “I get it, Stevie. I feel like one day, I’m gonna wake up with my arm back to flesh an’ blood, and I’m gonna take a stroll only to end up findin’ you, bruised and bloodied in an alleyway ‘cause you couldn’t keep your damn trap shut.”

Steve smiles slightly, preparing an apology because he is sorry for keeping Bucky worried like that. Back then things were stressful and Bucky had enough to worry about, like considering getting another job even though his current few were exhausting him just so they could have only just enough food on the table, without Steve making him worry about one day finding Steve’s limp body in an alley, some guy taking it too far and literally punching his lights out. But Bucky carried on before Steve could even get a word out.

“I guess its normal, the disbelief I mean. I don’t know if Sam ever wakes up and expects to see his friend – wait what did you say was his name?”

“Riley.” Steve informs, gently brushing a strand of hair away from Bucky’s forehead.

“Yeah. Riley.” Bucky grasps Steve’s softening dick in a loose hold, stroking absent-mindedly. “We both came out of the war with something we didn’t necessarily want.” They both look at Bucky’s bionic arm, metal fingers lightly trekking up and down Steve’s ribcage. “The things that happened to us were a little extraordinary, Stevie. I think it’s okay to feel like this ain’t real sometimes.”

“I guess,” Steve starts, stopping to squirm and let out a quiet moan when Bucky sharply twists his wrist. “I guess sometimes I want everything to go back to what it used to be. Not with the shitty apartment, or not back to having enough food, and _definitely_ not back to my shitty health. But back to when it was just you and me. No SHIELD, no Hydra, no nothing that happened since the war.  Just you and me.”

“We can do that, baby. Just – just imagine that we’re back in our apartment, and I’ve just come back from the docks and even though I’m so fucking tired, I know that I can muster up some energy to suck my sweet lil Stevie’s prick. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?”

Oh, Steve can do that all right.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at like two am and it's not beta'd. Sorry about that.
> 
> Feel free to follow my Tumblr - thwxntersoldier.tumblr.com/


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